Assumptions
by AtobeLover
Summary: Kind of short. There was never any romance between them. Or was there? Beware of angst, and a sappy happy ending.


Title: Assumptions

By: AtobeLover

Summary: Kind of short. There was never any romance. Or was there? Beware of angst, and a sappy happy ending.

Rated: T, on the sort of heavier side.

Disclaimer: We all know who owns this.

A/N: So. This _might_ be kind of clichéd. _Is_ very clichéd. But we need Royal love okay. We need it so bad, _I_ need it so bad it's suffocating. It's probably the last fic I'll post in a while. Sorry this is short, but right now I am physically and mentally incapable of writing more than these many words. Also going into withdrawal symptoms due to the certainty of me losing my laptop to school. So here's some fluff to make everything better.

For Ciel D'or Serendipite, because she's also giving me very lovely fic-presents, and because she's my best friend.

* * *

"No."

"Brat." A sigh.

"N-no, stop, I-ah, stop, _Atobe._" A sigh, but for another reason.

"Keigo."

"Mm, Keigo." A scream.

Atobe wonders whose name Ryoma really screams, inside his head. He really would like to get inside that cocky brat's mind. See where all the awe-inspiring tennis comes from. Where he got that fuck-it-all attitude, the I-don't-give-a-shit behavior. He wants to see what Ryoma really thinks of him, but more than anything he wants to see who Ryoma thinks of when Atobe fucks him into the bed, the table, the sofa, the floor, the wall, the limo seat.

They don't really talk when they meet. It's like getting down to business from the start, no embarrassment, no _foreplay_. They don't think about it, they really don't even talk about it later. No post-fucking sweet talk and caresses and sleeping together till the morning, unless Ryoma's _really _tired. But sometimes Atobe wakes up to Ryoma beside him, and that innocence-despite-what-they-do just _gets_ him.

Atobe's a fucking filthy rich bastard, he doesn't have to stand for the kind of treatment he actually gets from Ryoma. He could just as easily snap his fingers and he'd get somebody who loves him, but Ryoma Echizen's very existence demands for exceptions.

Ryoma makes Atobe fall to his _knees, _when all Atobe is used to is standing above everyone else.

It's just lust. Isn't it?

Teenage hormones and their respective egos.

Wandering eyes and a _wanna try something, Atobe? We'll make a deal. We fuck and keep it a secret._

Fumbling hands and deep wet passionate hot astoundingly amazing kisses followed by _look the fuck into my eyes, brat_ because even if Ryoma doesn't love him, and he probably really doesn't, Atobe Keigo will always demand that measure of intimacy from the tennis prodigy because in the end, that's all he gets. Nothing else matters.

Ryoma always, _always_ fiercely stares back at him.

"Why would you even tell me to stop - when it's - oh, god - so clear you..."

"Keigo." Ryoma manages to draw his name out, stretch it through three very long seconds and Atobe loves the way Ryoma grabs his hand and doesn't let go.

It's the little things.

Atobe views everything with greater meaning than Ryoma does. A rose makes Atobe pause and appreciate its beauty. Ryoma would give it a passing glance and move on, because he always has better things to do.

Because that's what he does. Moves on from everything, but Atobe apparently holds enough power in himself to keep Ryoma chained for a while.

Chained, or anchored, or entertained.

Probably entertained, because it's very rare that Atobe can completely wipe any trace of Ryoma's smirk off his face. It's always there. Even when Atobe's kissing him and he's _this_ close to saying _I love you so much it's killing me that I didn't say it before_, Ryoma's smirking into the kiss and biting Keigo's lips and then kissing his beauty spot below his eye and saying _Monkey King, you look pretty for once_ and then just making Atobe lose his mind, lose his control.

Why would he even do this to himself.

He doesn't even have the courage to tell Ryoma he wants more out of what they have, that he doesn't just want the sex, he wants the heart and the smile and the arguments.

"Ryoma," Atobe replies, as breathily, drawing it out as much as Ryoma did with his name. Kisses the nape of Ryoma's neck. Ryoma's hair smells fresh, lemony, like he washed it before coming over to Atobe's mansion.

"I..."

"Ahn?" Atobe says.

What they met to do is over, but Ryoma doesn't leave immediately this time. Atobe wonders if Ryoma's sleeping over again. He hopes he will.

"I... think I love you, Keigo."

There's a moment or seven or around a thousand of silence.

Then Atobe laughs, because it's surely a joke. No. It is. Really. The brat loves to fuck with his head, anyway.

"This isn't funny, brat."

"For all your Insight, you can be so blind sometimes." Ryoma sighs, curling up with his back to Atobe.

Atobe's laugh peters out, because it _has _to be a joke. Ryoma was the one who said _no strings attached,_ Ryoma was the one who said _keep it a secret_.

"Mada mada dane," Ryoma adds, and then yawns, going to sleep - or trying to, because Atobe pulls Ryoma to him, turning him over, closer than before, and says, "Weren't you the one who just wanted to be friends with benefits?"

Ryoma looks into his eyes sleepily - Atobe softens a bit at that and really wants to kiss him but he needs the answer to this. "Well," Ryoma replies after a long time, "I didn't know how to tell you I loved you because I didn't think you loved... me? Keigo? Che, mada mada dane, Monkey King."_  
_

There's just a really stupid smile on Atobe's face right now. He hugs Ryoma, and ignoring the complaints, he says, "Then I suppose you're blind too. Go to sleep, brat." He kisses the crown of Ryoma's head and closes his eyes, though the exhilaration won't let him sleep.

Ryoma snuggles impossibly closer to Atobe and kisses one of his fingers and nods off, comfortable in the knowledge that he is loved by the one he loves.

Atobe can't believe himself. All that pain. All the stress. All for nothing.

But then he got everything out of it.

* * *

Let me just run away before I can get bashed on for the sappiness of that ending. *makes a run for it*


End file.
